Potions After Dark
by Spitfireness
Summary: Cookie response to the After Dark challenge. Prefect Hermione Granger catches Blaise Zabini after curfew.


Title: Potions After Dark  
Author: lochmon  
Rating: PG  
Notes: In response to my own challenge, in which I did not follow the rules. I'm hopeless! Hermione, despite my own requirements, is not Head Girl. And so I understand if someone else plays fast and loose. LOL.  
Disclaimer: JKR is the root of all.   
  
Although she had been a prefect since her fifth year, Hermione still hated patrolling. Hogwarts was a lovely castle but it was still creepy as anything at night and for someone who was aware of the secret passages and monsters, fear could not be diminished by rationalization. Actually, given her experience, Hermione believed it bordered on suicide to feel safe in the darkness. Needless to say when Dumbledore decided the permanent defeat of Voldemort allowed for single-person patrols, she had protested most vehemently.  
  
Of course he hadn't listened. No, why listen to someone who had been petrified by a Basilisk in the school halls? It was all very well for him, but did he not care for those students who had not the power or legend to garner their own Chocolate Frog card? Forget Voldemort, what if someone had to go for help? Or if the prefect was the one who needed help? Even without carnivorous serpents of unusual size, there were still your run-of-the-mill mischief makers and roving gangs of bullies amok.  
  
Dumblemore was definitely getting on in years. How else to justify choosing bloody Susan Bones as Head Girl?  
  
No, Hermione thought, I'm not bitter at all. I've only been a prefect for two years, kept the highest average in two centuries earned more OWLs than anyone ever, and helped Harry save the world six times. Really, what did a handful of detentions and a cumulative five hundred House points lost matter in the fact of that list?   
  
Apparently a lot. Susan Bones' sweet and assuming nature served her well. Most teachers thought Hermione was a model student, but she had also managed to deeply offend certain members of the faculty. Professor Trelawney had never forgiven her for storming out of the classroom third year and Professor Snape had plainly stated that if Draco could not be Head Boy, he saw no reason for the Gryffindor Golden Girl to be Head Girl.  
  
If she was Head Girl, they would be patrolling in pairs.  
  
Alas, she was not and so she was patrolling alone in the dark. In sympathy, Harry had lent her the Marauders' Map but it had refused to work for her since the night she used it to catch a couple of pranksters.  
  
Mr. Prongs is deeply disappointed in Miss Granger. He had high hopes for her lovely, sneaky head.  
  
Mr. Padfoot would also like to express his astonishment that the lovely Miss Granger broke her vow.  
  
Mr. Moony offers his condolences, having once faced the conflict between prefecture and mischief himself.  
  
Hermione supposed she should have known better than to use the Map for good.  
  
She tried to be honest with herself. While she did worry about the practicality of single-patrolling, Hermione was more upset at her disillusionment. She had helped defeat an evil villain of the greatest magnitude for Merlin's sake, didn't she deserve something?  
  
Oh.  
  
Perhaps that was the problem. She didn't want the responsibilities of Head Girl so much as the privileges. Yes, she would have fulfilled the duties perfectly but she didn't really want them. She had spent six years worrying about school work and Voldemort, perhaps what she needed was something for herself. She thought about giving up her badge; as Ron had pointed out after fifth year, it was all work and no fun-  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a crash and the scurrying of feet around the corner.  
  
She dimmed her lit wand and pressed herself against the wall but no one was there when she turned the corner. She waited for the tell-tale fall of footsteps or swirl of robes, and brightened her wand when she heard none.  
  
There was a broken vial on the floor, the glass shards were surrounded by a pearlescent blue puddle. Kneeling, she dipped the long hem of her robe to take a sample; it was Essence of Iseult. A few feet to the right was a somewhat crushed bouquet of love-in-idleness. Hermione picked it up gingerly and saw that the flowers were dried.  
  
With a quick scourgify, she cleared the hall before turning her attention back to the flowers. They were tied together with a measure of plain twine. Untying the bundle neatly, she pocketed the bouquet and cast a tracking spell on the twine. It glowed faintly for a second before returning to its original state. Undeterred and somewhat more curious, she tapped it with her wand and commanded, "Reveal your secret."  
  
The twine tugged a bit to the left and Hermione gave it some slack. She followed it to a small, unremarkable bust of Glover Hipworth near the third floor staircase. As the staircase only led to the dungeons or Filch's mop closet, that area of the castle suffered little traffic. She circled the bust, looking for obvious marks of wear. Then she pushed at the brass placard before pressing into the left eye.  
  
"Ow," the marble bust cried out. "Do you mind?"  
  
"Apologies, Mr. Hipworth," Hermione said quickly. She had learned early on that civility got one far with the (supposedly) inantimate objects of the wizarding world. "I was simply wondering about your purpose."  
  
"I'm a statue, young lady. My purposes are purely aesthetic."  
  
"You're handsome, certainly, but I know there's something else about."  
  
"You always were a know-it-all."  
  
"Beg your pardon, I didn't know I'd previously made your acquaintance."  
  
A throat cleared behind her. "I said that."  
  
Hermione turned to see a tall figure. "Do you mind coming into the light?"  
  
"I suppose not," he stepped forward. "Hallo, Mr. Hipworth."  
  
"Hallo, the Third. Using the Apothecary for trysts? Now that's not part of the agreement. Even if she does have exquisite taste; she thinks I'm aesthetically pleasing, you know.""  
  
"Trysts," Hermione sputtered and looked at the young man accusingly. She felt somewhat let down.  
  
"No, that's not the way of it, Hipworth. This is a business matter."  
  
"Ah," Mr. Hipworth nodded in his limited way. "Better, get out of the hall then, the Third. Wouldn't like Filch to catch you."  
  
"But I'm a pre-"  
  
Hermione was cut off by the young man pushing her into a passage in the wall behind Mr. Hipworth.  
  
When the door slid shut behind them, Hermione kicked him in the shin and summoned his wand into her free hand.  
  
From the floor, he groaned, "I supposed I should have expected that."  
  
Pointing both wands at him, she glared. "Now, tell me what is going on. I could have you expelled."  
  
"May I stand?"  
  
She stepped away, keeping her back to the wall, "Go ahead."  
  
He was a good deal taller than her, towering at least half a foot over her small frame. He had black hair that fell to his chin in shiny waves and obscured most of his face. His clothes were nondescript but well-made.  
  
"Zabini?"  
  
"Yes, that's me. Blaise." He used his left hand to push his hair out of his face and she could that his features were pleasantly intelligent. Oddly, he had one blue eye and one green. It suited him, distracting from the length of his nose. The nose, really, was the one thing that between him and being devastatingly gorgeous.  
  
"Care to tell me what you're about? Or shall I take you to McGonagall now?"  
  
He cursed beneath his breath before looking at her. "Would you turn the lights on first? Its a simple 'lumos' and half-swirl with my wand, easy on the wrist snap. Wizards' honor it won't do anything else."  
  
From what she knew of Blaise Zabini, and that was precious little, he was neither malicious nor a troublemaker. There was also the fact of her curiousity, she was willing to postpone punishment for its satisfaction. She narrowed her eyes at him but complied. The spell revealed shelf-covered walls filled with vials, jars, and brown paper wrapped bundles.   
  
"What on earth-," she could identify several of the vessels' contents. In the corner, there was a jar of floating puffer-fish eyes beside a stand of yellow Jabberknoll feathers.  
  
"Welcome to the Apothecary."  
  
"But the school doesn't have an apothecary, Hogwarts: A History," her voice trailed off. "Oh, bother that, obviously we have an Apothecary."  
  
"Your acceptance of reality cheers me mightily," Blaise said dryly. "However, I must point out that this apothecary is mine and not the school's. How else do you think students get the ingredients for their, shall I say, extracurricular potions? Snape keeps close watch on the student cupboards."  
  
Fascinated, Hermione gave herself a small tour of the room. "I've always stolen mine directly from his private stores."  
  
He made a small sound that might have been 'huh.' "So that was you? How'd the Polyjuice turn out? Professional curiousity."  
  
"Did it's job," she gave a sly grin. "How'd you hear about that?"  
  
"Snape came around asking if anyone had purchased full moon fluxweed and powdered bicorn. Impressive for a second year."   
  
She looked at him sharply, "Snape knows about this place?"  
  
"Oh, it's still illegal but no danger of him turning me in as long as I follow the rules."  
  
"How can something be against school rules but still have them?"  
  
"Oh, they're not school rules we're following. Snape knows because he was Apothecary in his time. This place has been around almost as long as the school. I'm the third Zabini Apothecary."  
  
"Ah, that's why Hipworth."  
  
"Yes, well, as long as I don't sell ingredients for potions that are too dangerous or to someone who could can't brew correctly, Snape won't report me."  
  
She turned to face him and put her hands on her hips, "The Concupscientia is heavily restricted. The effects it could have at Hogwards are terrible enough that even Snape would shut you down."  
  
He sighed. "I know, that's why the transaction went sour. Two weeks ago I sold dehydrated vervain, dove's heart, and an infusion of saw palmetto to a Hufflepuff for Iseult's Cup, the basic love philtre. That's allowed as the effects are short-lived and only work if the emotions were there in the first place."  
  
Hermione nodded in understanding and motioned for him to continue.  
  
"A second Hufflepuff came to me for the Essence of Iseult and pansies. When I realized that Iseult's Cup called for fresh flowers, I became suspicious. Then I found out that Sprout's growing mandrake root in Greenhouse six again-"  
  
"Love apple, I see."  
  
"Yes, well, I refused to make the sale. I assume you heard the scuffle that ensued." He looked at her with his piercing mismatched eyes, " How did you find me by the way?"  
  
"The twine. I've noticed that girls usually use fancy ribbon prefer decorative bouquets. Otherwise, I might have passed it off as a token of affection. Essence of Iseult is popular as a light fragrance."  
  
"Only when its been diluted with orange water. But you knew that."  
  
"Of course. I realized almost immediately that I was looking at potions' ingredients and not someone's idea of a sweet gift. I used "reveal" on the twine and it led me to our friend, Mr. Hipworth.  
  
"Reveal your secret? I didn't account for that. Damn."  
  
"Oh, my triangulation spell bounced off effortlessly," she told him and patted his shoulder comfortingly.  
  
"Thanks. I used a blueberry and amaranth wash. Traditionally, the Apothecary uses a Deletrius charm, but I thought that left too much of a signature."  
  
"What a good idea," she said with sincerity. "There's a diffusion you might find useful in Witchcookery. You might also like some of the preservative spells; I see that your cold storage is rather limited."  
  
"Thank you," he said.  
  
"Now what shall I do with you," she looked at him straight. "I'm tempted to let you go. One, you did prevent an orgy in Hufflepuff House, for which my eyes thank you. Two, Snape knows about your operation and turning you in would only deprive Hogwarts of a rich tradition. Three, I'm hoping for a discount."  
  
Blaise blinked. "But I was out after curfew."  
  
"Piffle." She handed his wand back, noticing his fingernails were clean and trim. His hands were elegant but efficient. He probably didn't waste a movement when he worked with potions.  
  
"But what about the mess in the halls; won't you get in trouble if you don't report me?"  
  
"There's no mess. I cleaned it up before I came here to prevent possible curfew-breakers from humiliating injury. I didn't need the evidence, my word would have been enough proof to punish you. And as for getting in trouble? I won't. But between the two of us? I'm thinking of giving up the badge."  
  
Blaise pursed his lips. "That would leave you with a significant amount of free time. What are you doing next Hogsmeade weekend?"  
  
"I was going to watch over the third years, but if I'm not a prefect, that's not my responsibility."  
  
"How would you feel about a trip to the Hogsmeade Apothecary on a buying trip? I could introduce you to Master Eyebright; he procures many of my ingredients for me."   
  
"Oh, that's unnecessary. I won't report you, even if I don't get a discount."  
  
He smiled. "And after, we could talk shop over lunch at the Chicory?"  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Owl me on Thursday and we'll finalize."  
  
"Oh."   
  
"Is that a yes?"  
  
"I'd love to," she recovered gracefully. "Can you get back to your dormitory all right? Or shall I escort you? I mean, it would be a shame for you to get in trouble for breaking curfew after all this."  
  
"I'll be fine," he said, taking her arm and leading her towards the hidden entrance. "And I'll talk to our friend Hipworth about letting you in from now on."  
  
"I'd like that," she said.  
  
He squeezed her hand lightly as she moved past Mr. Hipworth and Hermione felt much less bitter than she had when the evening started.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She turned around to see him waving from the closing door.  
  
"Keep the flowers. They are my idea of sweet gift."   
  
Hermione whistled as she walked alone down the dark corridor, bouquet of pansies in one hand and her wand ready in the other. Bloody Susan Bones could keep her shiny badge; she had just found something much better.  
  
----  
  
My original thoughts were much naughtier. Then I started writing. Ah, well. See, I think Hermione and Blaise saw their shop talk as foreplay so, er, next time they can use the Apothecary, as our friend Hipworth suggested, for trysting. But that's a much dirtier story.  
  
The original challenge can be found at slytherincross yahoo group.  



End file.
